


Alien 3: F....d c...d c..d

by aliennaire (Dianaliennaire)



Category: Alien 3 (1992), Alien Series, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alien Character(s), Attempt at Humor, Character Death, Dark Comedy, Explicit Language, Gen, Jokes, Parody, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dianaliennaire/pseuds/aliennaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello everyone!<br/>Below I recounted my interpretation of this movie content in a more or less humorous way. I hope you will find it entertaining.<br/>Notes: 1. I am an absolute Alien/Aliens fan. 2. This spoof has been written according to the Assembly cut version. 3. There really are a lot of F-words, I hope you will not be confused by the same amount here.<br/>I will be glad to hear any feedback,<br/>Good luck to all!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alien 3: F....d c...d c..d

BOOM, SNAP, BAM, SMACK, KABOOM!!!  
***  
S. WEAVER-RIPLEY (with her eyes closed, speaking to herself): Here we go again, those goddamned cryo-pods, landings, overloads, and all this just for 5 million, what's the bullshit? Next time, I... (opens her eyes, aloud) Where am I?  
CLEMENS: On the prison planet, widely teemed with lice! Can I shave you THERE, haven't seen women for ages...  
***  
CLEMENS: Corporal was impaled, the girl drowned, I'm happy to add both didn't have a bad time, being in hypersleep, lieutenant Ripley.  
RIPLEY (surprised and flattered): How did you know my name?  
***  
CLEMENS: Was she your daughter?  
RIPLEY: No way! Packed with a flamethrower, pulse rifle and a heap of grenades in bandoleer, I just have it as hobby to roam around the Alien hives, especially those with the straight-set rows of facehugger eggs and the Queen over them!  
CLEMENS (takes scalpel, retractor and other tools for torture): Damn, this puny, tiny body definitely cramps my style! Now, what are we looking for, though?  
RIPLEY: Plague, cholera, diphtheria, I don't care... Look, you're a doctor here, make your guess yourself, Okey?  
***  
DILLON: Amen!  
Some newly hatched being with an elongated pink head victoriously protrudes the tongue out of its mouth and screeches something, that would probably in English mean: “Crud's coming, not amen”  
Vigorously galloping, the creature disappears in the far end of a corridor.  
***  
RIPLEY (comes into the mess hall full of convicts): How're you doing? What are you waiting for?  
Future rapists-losers merrily rub their hands.  
DILLON (slams his fist upon the table): Gentlemen rapists and murderers, I sense possible deviation from our faith. Who'd like to speak for herself?  
Bald heads turn towards Ripley.  
***  
CLEMENS: How do you like your new haircut?  
RIPLEY: Quite all right! Do you like it?  
CLEMENS (with his hand sliding over his head): Got accustomed to it already...  
RIPLEY: No, I mean, do you like my new look as such?  
CLEMENS: Aaaaahhhh...  
RIPLEY: My arms, legs, chest, belly... You have already seen me naked, haven't you?  
CLEMENS: Eeeeerrrrr....  
RIPLEY: Do you want me?  
CLEMENS: In what way?  
RIPLEY: Aaaaahhhh.... Eeeeerrrrr...  
***  
RIPLEY: Wow! I'm in your cot at last! Let's talk about you!  
CLEMENS (with a painful countenance): I'm sorry, the boss is going to summon me right now, and I will have to go to work.  
Commutator beeps, the boss orders Clemens to go to work.  
***  
THE BOSS: Who was it?  
CLEMENS tells the name of the one of convicts.  
THE BOSS: How come you know it?  
CLEMENS: I was after those boots, but the bastard managed to snitch them first!  
***  
CLEMENS (back to his quaters): There was an acid stain, and, since I am not a total idiot, I'd like to know...  
RIPLEY: What about to get back to cot?  
CLEMENS: Oh no, seems, I should get to work again!  
***  
At the boss' office.  
CLEMENS: I find, that you are a pungently stinking piece of shit, and I would like to abandon your office, of course, after your permission.  
THE BOSS (holds him out a cup ща tea ): We both know, that the only real piece of shit here is you.  
CLEMENS (takes the tea): I protest it, I am a doctor!  
Door opens, Aaron comes in.  
CLEMENS heads to doorway with the teacup and, while passing by Aaron, splashes it out into his face.  
Aaron: F*cking British mannerism!  
***  
Three rapists-losers merrily rub their hands.  
RIPLEY: Eeeeerrrrr... That time when I asked, what were you waiting for, I meant something different top-to-bottom! I was talking about faith!  
THREE RAPISTS-LOSERS : Don't worry about that, we are here exactly for your top-to-bottom!  
THUMP! BANG!  
DILLON (dealing blows left and right): Sister, we'll talk about faith later!  
RIPLEY(grabs another metallic rod): I doubt there will be much time later.  
THUMP! BANG!  
***  
Mangled upper part of an android switches to life.  
RIPLEY: How are your legs?  
BISHOP: The same way, as your hair!  
RIPLEY: Was there an Alien aboard with us?  
BISHOP: Ripley, please, render me a favour, stop mocking and just switch me off, ok?  
***  
At the boss' office.  
RIPLEY: So we don't have any weapon? C*nt!  
THE BOSS: And that c*nt is you!  
***  
In the infirmary.  
CLEMENS: Are you married?  
RIPLEY (with a coyly smile): Awww, even don't know by now...  
CLEMENS (shedding a tear): Аnd I seemingly have the next hit of repentance for innocent wasted patients, and there is a feeling that something bad is gonna hap...  
THWACK  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: (drops Clemense's body down on the floor and pecks Ripley on the chick): Hello!  
RIPLEY (frightened): Who're you?  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: Have no f*cking clue, but they're calling me Alien in here, so I probably am it!  
RIPLEY: You look somewhat strangely...  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: Hey, when it was the last time you had a chance to gape at yourself in the mirror, in your turn?  
RIPLEY: Eeeeerrrrr...  
***  
In the mess hall.  
THE BOSS: Gentlemen rapists and murderers, this is a rumour control, here are the facts, I absolutely give no shit about all of you. The only thing I'm expecting of you is that until the company's arrival you don't kill (in extended voice, like announcing rivals at boxing) lieutenaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant Ripleyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!  
RIPLEY(runs in, panting, stops at the threshold): Phew, just in time!  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER peeps out of the ceiling, grabs the boss by his scalp and draws him up, blood rivers pouring down.  
Some bald convict:: Gees! Can anyone repeat it, but in the slow motion?  
***  
Ripley leans against the wall.  
Some bald convict:: Sister, what about to lead us?  
SOME BALD CONVICT №2: Otherwise, we'll shove your head through the wall!  
RIPLEY (Cautiously steps away from the wall): Ha! I'd like to see you shouting this in an hour!  
SOME BALD CONVICT №2: Actually, I'm the only one who has to survive all this bedlam! I've got the contract with the studio!  
RIPLEY (meditatively): Curiously, why don't I know anything about it?..  
***  
BOOM, CLASH, BANG!  
Several bald convicts' bodies are soaring in a fashion of crane bird flock over the screen.  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER spots a doughnut in the hand of one of the alive convicts, wiggles its tail, chases him, both end up locked in the ginormous room, swear words and sounds of hustling are heard through the thick heavy door.  
The rest take their seats flat in front of the huge door, get popcorn and cola.  
Some bald convict:: Five to one for the Beast!  
***  
In the infirmary.  
CRAZY BALD CONVICT:: Are you a friend or a f*cking foe?  
SOME BALD CONVICT №2 (unfastens straitjacket): I beg you, hold on for 10 minutes more, will you? I've got a half of my head to shave yet!  
DING!  
SOME BALD CONVICT №2 falls down from the hit upon his half-unshaven noddle with metallic rod'.  
***  
Ginormous doors open.  
CRAZY BALD CONVICT:: Oh splendorous creature, may your...  
CRUNCH!  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER (sighs): Oh, should you know the way, I would have look like...  
***  
In the EEV.  
RIPLEY: Those convicts even can be sweet once in a while, at least I'm grateful, they have cleaned out my cryo-capsule sanitarily white, as though I've never dropped down into this oiled ocean...  
AARON: Boooo!  
RIPLEY: Isn't scary! Press B or C!  
AARON: Eeeeerrrrr...  
RIPLEY: В is like tits, turned around 90 degrees counterclockwise, C is like a crescent.  
AARON: Оh! The scanner shows a still with something resembling a little rubber dinosaur!  
RIPLEY (looks at the screen): What the f*ck?.. I guess, visual effects should have been a way better in 1992!  
AARON: But they've spent that budget on your salary!  
RIPLEY: F*ck you, moron, aren't you supposed to open your mouth at all?  
***  
RIPLEY (sneaking in the darkness): Kitty-kitty-kitty!  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: Get your torch away, don't blind me eyes!  
RIPLEY: You have no eyes!  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: Blimey, you got me! Righto, what do you want here?  
RIPLEY: Look, I've been thinking a bit, and since I'm carrying the Queen, wouldn't it be more logical, if you made me motionless, kinda glued to the wall, just in case lest nothing wrong happened to your breed, huh?  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: Maybe you better ask me to kill you, huh?  
RIPLEY: Eeeeerrrrr...  
***  
DILLON (joyfully brandishes his axe): Gentlemen rapists and murderers! The lass and I are going to have some fighting, who's ready to voluntarily join our suicidal squad?  
Silence.  
RIPLEY: You'll be f*cking wasted by the company anyway, get into some racing around for f*ck sake, (speaking to herself) still, can't figure what this bunch of lazy stunts were hired here for!  
***  
RIPLEY: Is anything working in this godforsaken ass end of space?  
DILLON: I'd rather not be talking in a such blasphemous...  
RIPLEY: Where are the rest?  
DILLON: Praying for it to be working!  
***  
Somewhere in the corridors.  
CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP  
Ааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!  
SOME BALD CONVICT: (referring to the gore-ish smear on the wall): Oh! Hi Vincent!  
***  
Again in the corridors.  
CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP  
Ааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!  
DILLON: Feels like this part is growing overly monotonous... Gentlemen, start improvising, discover your talents!  
***  
Yet in the corridors.  
CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP  
Ааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!  
SOME BALD CONVICT №2 (turns over the scissors in the hand of another convict that the sharp ends are pointing to the latter): You f*cking moron! If you don't pierce yourself with them to death, make sure to go and kill yourself some other way later!  
***  
In the... yeah, you guessed it!  
CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP, CLIPPETY-CLOP  
Ааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааааhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!  
***  
Medley crew team enters the facility.  
AARON: Gentlemen! Welcome to Fiorina! Tea, coffee, latte? I hope you have fetched leastwise something , 'cause everything's finished here yet ages ago!  
Some company's rep (with narrow eyes): Ver Ze Fak U Hai Din Lue Te Nent Rip Lee?  
***  
In the favourite corridors.  
SOME BALD CONVICT №2 (talking to some bald convict): F*ck, it's really funny to run around! Cannot remember when the last time I was giggling like this!  
CRASH, some bald convict falls down.  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER (yawning): Losers...  
RIPLEY fenders Some bald convict №2 with her body and treads on the monster's tail.  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: F*ck, would you be so courteous to look where you put your feet?  
RIPLEY: Oh Sorry...  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: It's okay, well, where is your stupid lead tramp?  
RIPLEY (points out): This way!.. What do you think, how has it gone this time?  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: Must've been better, if you understand what I'm about.  
Both chuckle understandingly.  
RIPLEY: Okay, it's my time, see you!  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER: Yeah, good luck!.. Hey, Dillon, how the f*ck much longer should I be waiting for you here?!  
***  
ALIEN-LIKE CRITTER (jumping out of the lead bath): Aaaaarrrrhhhhh! Hot as hell in here!  
RIPLEY: Wait for a minute, I'll cool you down with a wate... Eeeeerrrrr.. (takes her hand off the hydrant tap and looks around to inspect whether somebody has or hasn't noticed that she touched it)  
***  
BISHOP-lookalike someone: Hi there!  
RIPLEY: F*ck off!  
BISHOP-lookalike someone: Hmmmmmmm... Well, I have had a guess you would hardly believe in benevolent intentions of the company, still wanted to give it a try, just in case.  
SLAP!  
AARON gives a cuff on the BISHOP-lookalike someone's nape of the neck.  
BANG-BANG!  
AARON's corpse falls down.  
***  
RIPLEY (addresses to some bald convict №2): You are crazy!  
SOME BALD CONVICT №2: That's what we are all like here! By the way, my name's Morse.  
S. WEAVER-RIPLEY (stretches her hand): Ri... (turns around, skids to the edge of platform and drops down) What the f*ck?!.. It wasn't in the script! I'll sue for 6 millio...  
SPLASH!  
***  
SOME BALD CONVICT №2: Gentlemen, doesn't it look like we've got some moronic ending here, don't you think so?  
One of the bizzarely rigged up soldiers aims his gun at some bald convict №2, shoots, but misses and hits another military man.  
BANG-BANG! BANG-BANG! BANG-BANG!  
All fall down dead.  
***  
RIPLEY (voice over): «This is Ripley. Last survivor of the Nostromo. Signing off»  
BUZZ!  
RIPLEY (voice over): «Final report of the commercial starship Nostromo...»  
SCREECH and shrieking voice off-screen: Mummmmyyyy!


End file.
